


Mouthfeel

by pornosophical



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Chefs, Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, Food Porn, M/M, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-06
Updated: 2015-09-06
Packaged: 2018-04-19 09:11:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4740833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pornosophical/pseuds/pornosophical
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>mouth·feel /ˈmouTHfēl/ noun: the physical sensations in the mouth produced by a particular food.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mouthfeel

**Author's Note:**

> I had a gigantic chef AU planned before The Apostate Prophecy took over my fanfic life and since I'm trying to be A Good Contributor To This Ship I thought I'd tidy up an excerpt and share it. un-betaed

Percy had finally begun to perk up by the time they got back to Nico’s apartment. Thanks to his trust fund Nico could afford a place on his own large enough to have a proper kitchen to work in, at least for a little dinner like this. Compared to the tiny one-bedroom apartment Percy rented in Brooklyn though, it was downright palatial.

Sometimes Nico felt embarrassed bringing his friends over. They were all up and coming, but none of them were wealthy by any stretch. At least not yet--it was something of a race to see who of their little clique would be the first to crack the chef-celebrity barrier. Smart money was on Annabeth, who was already on the rise, or Jason, but everyone also agreed that Frank was a dark horse and not to be underestimated.

In any event, Nico liked doing nice things for the people close to him, and that overrode any lingering embarrassment.

Mostly.

Today was about Percy, who needed something to take his mind off his last breakup with Annabeth. The Final Breakup so to speak. It had been a big deal, their social group hadn’t been blasted apart so much as it had to disperse a bit for everyone to recover. Lines had been drawn a little along gender lines, and although everyone was still friends there was an effort to make sure Percy and Annabeth didn’t have to cross paths.

Things had calmed down, but Percy was still moping and spending literally all of his time working. Which Nico understood, running a restaurant took every hour of the day every day of the week and frequently even that wasn’t enough. But they weren’t struggling to make their mark or match overhead anymore. And Jason, Grover, Frank, and Leo had all tried to cheer him up with boy’s nights out, but he begged off each time according to Jason.

So Nico had brought out the big guns and promised to make Percy _Ristorante Pluton’s_ world famous _Uovo di Raviolo_. But only if he go out of his apartment and came to Nico’s.

“Who did you get this ricotta from?” asked Percy in wonder, hefting up the cheese. “It’s so dry. What--was it made this morning?”

“Yes, and Rachel. She knows a guy,” said Nico, because it was a long story and Rachel _always_ knew a guy. Hard to source items were her bread and butter, and she made a much better TV personality than she had a chef. She had a real talent for writing and teaching people about cuisine, and without her father and his legacy looming over her she was finally able to really do what she loved.

Nico put the ricotta in a bowl and broke it up gently but efficiently with his spatula. Percy went to the fridge and got himself a beer. A moment later a glass of red wine appeared in Nico’s vision, out of his workspace but close enough to grab.

“Thanks,” he said.

“No, thank you, dude,” said Percy, taking up a perch on the island to watch Nico work. “I’ve been wanting to try this for ages.”

“I know,” said Nico dryly. Percy along with everyone else had been pestering him about this dish. Well, this and all the other grand old cuisine Nico had learned at _Ristorante Pluton_. He didn’t like all those old complicated dishes, both because he loved simple good food, but also because learning them had not been pleasant.

There was a reason his restaurant was named _Osteria B_ , and it wasn’t only because he loved his sister, it was because he liked good food and good wine without pretension. He wanted an _osteria_ , not a _ristorante_ or even a _trattoria_ , he wanted a homey a place where anyone could come and eat good food and feel comfortable and not break their wallet. Feeding people felt good, and it felt even better when his food, his place that he had created, made people happy.

That didn’t mean he couldn’t put on a  show when called for, or when he was otherwise so inclined. He doled out the experiences grudgingly at first because he worried that if he showed off all of his tricks at once people would lose interest in him. But they hadn’t, everyone had welcomed him and become as close as family in their own way.

Then it had become about using the established pattern to make these instances mean something more. Nico cooked like this sparingly and when he did it was a special occasion. It meant something when he offered to cook this way, and he enjoyed that being able to give that to the people he loved.

Like Percy. Percy who was watching Nico in avid silence, his pretty green eyes sparkling with happiness. This was the Grand Cuisine, the kind of dish that very few people were privileged to experience in their lives. It was the food Nico had been raised around, so to him it was all old hat, but to Percy and their other friends in New York it was exotic and straight out of myth.

Nico grated _parmigiano-reggiano_ \--the good stuff from the restaurant that he forbade the kitchen from using for staff meals and that they collected the rinds to make stock with--into the ricotta. Some seasoning (salt, pepper, a touch of nutmeg) and then he began folding the egg in. The yolks were a bright vibrant orange, because Nico just couldn’t abide pale yellow mass-produced egg yolk. Some farmers fed their chickens designer feed with extra keratin to give the yolk a healthy orange color, but it was all for show. Nico’s supplier pastured their hens, letting them forage for the protein they needed to make the shells thicker and the yolk more substantial, to say nothing of the flavor.

Nico had a difficult time dealing with American supermarkets. The availability of things all year round that should be seasonal was anathema to his kitchen culture and heritage. But he also kind of loved it, like he secretly loved McDonald’s hamburgers.

Every chef had something like that though, a secretive shameful pleasure food. Jason loved Wendy’s fries dipped in their chocolate malt shakes, Hazel went nuts for the nuclear orange macaroni and cheese from KFC, and even Annabeth had a well-documented weakness for dirty water hot dogs that if left unmanaged bordered on addiction.

Percy watched Nico avidly as he blanched and sautéed some spinach before chopping and added that to the mixture. Then he pulled out the truffle and Percy groaned. Nico tried to conceal his reaction to Percy’s obnoxious, borderline sexual noises. He’d made the pasta earlier in the day when he did the rest of his prep, so he brought it out and began forming the _raviolo_.

First he laid out the bottom layer of pasta. Then he formed the mixture of cheese and spinach into little circles on it, careful to edge his palms out just so. He cracked another egg and passed the yolk quickly but carefully back and forth to strip it of the white. He carefully laid the yolk in the center of the circle of spinach-ricotta.

Then he began to shave the truffle onto it. Every slice of that he shaved into the pasta pinched a high pitched whine from Percy. Nico closed up the pasta and formed the _raviolo_.

“There’s no prepping with this one, is there,” said Percy in awe as Nico cut out the pasta.

“Yep, made to order every day,” said Nico. He set the pasta aside and went to the fridge.

“Hazel and I picked these this weekend,” said Nico as he pulled out a bag of wild mushrooms.

“Holy crap,” said Percy as he held one of the king boletes. “These things are huge!”

Nico quickly sliced up several caps and started sautéing them.  “Hazel’s got a knack for foraging.”

“Yeah, Annabeth,” Percy’s voice caught and Nico almost cursed. The whole point of this was to take Percy’s mind off of Annabeth! “She always said that, when they came back from a girl’s weekend, talking about how Hazel had all these mushrooms and I’m like ‘okay, Annabeth, so why did you come back with bark and grubs?’ and you can imagine how well that went over.”

Nico snorted, which seemed to please Percy. Annabeth’s new take on post-authentic hyper-locavorian cuisine was a bit too much for Nico. It was delicious, he’d never dispute that, but eating moss no matter how good just didn’t feel right to him. Not all food had to be like this that he was making, the Grand Cuisine, or closer to home cooked fare, but… Annabeth had fed them bark, clay, and god only knew what else in her meals over the last few years. It all tasted fantastic (well, mostly—there had been a few memorable misfires) but it didn’t look like food and that bothered Nico.

She’d won enough awards that he didn’t feel too guilty about it.

The butter was browning, and the mushrooms were looking good, so Nico took the _raviolo_ and carefully lowered them into their boiling water bath. They only took a couple of minutes to cook, so he took two plates out of the warmer under the oven and got ready to plate the _raviolo_.

As soon as the pasta was done he removed it to the plate, and then spooned the mushrooms over, and just to gild the lily he grated the rest of the truffle over it. When he pushed the dish over to Percy for a moment Percy didn’t react, just gaped at Nico helplessly. Then he picked up his fork.

“Jesus Christ,” moaned Percy as he cut open the _raviolo_. Dark orange soft-boiled yolk spilled out, flooding the base of the bowl and mixing with the butter sauce and mushrooms. “Oh, fuck me this looks so good.”

Nico refrained from volunteering to fuck Percy as often as he wanted, whenever he wanted, and even possibly wherever he wanted, and ate. It tasted good enough. Hades would have given it an “acceptable” which for him was very high praise.

“This is so damn good,” said Percy around a mouthful. He was enjoying the _raviolo_ so much he almost looked sad while he ate it.

“I hadn’t made it since moving here,” said Nico. The look Percy gave him was inscrutable, at least for Nico. So he focused on eating.

“Thank you,” Percy said after a moment. “I know you don’t like making this stuff.”

“That’s not true,” protested Nico and at Percy’s sardonic look rolled his eyes. “Okay, it’s _technically_ true, but I like making the people close to me happy a lot more than I dislike cooking this.”

And honestly, it was pretty good, if Nico did say so himself. But he rarely did.

“Well this is very happy-making for me, so thank you,” said Percy and Nico let himself smile at that. Percy met Nico’s smile with one of his own, pleasantly surprised. Nico supposed he didn’t smile that often, but still it wasn’t like he was a permanent grouch.

“Good,” said Nico. “Although we’re not quite done.”

Percy quirked an eyebrow at him as he scooped up his last bite. “We’re not?”

“You didn’t think this was all I was feeding you for dinner, did you?” asked Nico archly. Percy shrugged.

“I mean I would have been happy if it was, this was amazing.”

“Well, it’s not.” Nico bent over to open a cabinet, and then squatted so he wasn’t lifting with his back and hefted up a duck press onto the counter.

Percy squealed and then immediately pretended he had done no such thing.

“Yeah, it’s the real deal,” said Nico, patting the silver monstrosity affectionately. Doing the duck had been one of the few dishes he really enjoyed at _Pluton_. Something about it was so raw compared to the rest of the grand cuisine. “I got it as a going away gift from the restaurant, since they do this dish so rarely nowadays.”

“Oh my God,” said Percy walking over to the press. “It’s beautiful.”

Nico watched Percy’s fingers trace the silver and tried not to imagine them tracing patterns on his skin.

“We have a couple of minutes before the duck is ready,” said Nico and drained his glass of wine. “Mind if I open a fresh bottle? Or do you want to stick with beer?

“Wine’s good,” said Percy. Nico went to his wine closet (he refused to call a glorified pantry a cellar) and after a moment of hesitation fished out a mature Barolo and hoped Percy didn’t cotton on to how nice it was. At Percy’s restaurant, Blackjack, he didn’t sell any wine over $35 ( _after_ the markup too, which was just crazy, Nico’s wine list was all that kept his overhead from exploding out of control) and they were all biodynamic, organic, uncommon runs from little known American vineyards. Most of them couldn’t stand on their own, but they didn’t have to. The yielded to Percy’s pure, bold flavors well.

Nico’s food might be casual, and emphasize local produce and meat sourcing (all seasonal of course--the spirit of Italian cooking instead of importing everything from the Mediterranean), but his wine list was another matter entirely. His wine list was almost exclusively Italian and he personally curated it as the menu shifted.

Nico had always liked wine, and in particular he loved spicy, bold reds; they reminded him of his mother and the tiny sips she’d let him have from her glass as a child at dinner. However, Hades had made it quite clear though that being a _sommelier_ was decidedly inferior to being a _chef de cuisine_. It was not a suitable option for Nico.

According to Hades prestige did not fall to the _sommelier,_ at best they were a curator, like a museum docent, showcasing the works of true masters. Hades appreciated the need for a wine expert and the skill it took to be one, but he had been very firm as to what he considered an appropriate direction for Nico’s efforts.

Nico really should have opened the bottle earlier, but he hadn’t known how Percy would be feeling. To make up for it Nico decanted the wine, something which Percy watched with rapt attention. He didn’t bother with a candle, the kitchen was light enough he felt comfortable eyeballing the dregs.

“You’re good at that,” said Percy. “Very steady hands. Did you do wine at Pluton too?”

“No,” said Nico quickly. “Hades would never have let me.”

Percy scowled. “Every time you tell me more about your dad he sounds like an asshole.”

Nico shrugged, not sure how to respond. He didn’t really feel like defending Hades, it wasn’t exactly a false accusation. Hades might not have been the nicest father, and Nico would be lying if he said their relationship was without conflict, but Hades had given him opportunities and made sure he could provide for himself. It was more than many fathers gave their children, and Nico was past the age that he cared to make complaints about it.

After Nico poured them each a glass of wine the oven dinged. He pulled out the partially-roast duck and quickly dispatched its breasts and took off the legs. The flesh was rare and too pink to eat, but Nico wasn’t done by a long shot. A bit of butter in the pan and he started a sear on the breasts (the legs he set aside for his breakfast tomorrow) while he snipped up the rest of the duck carcass with a bear of heavy shears. Every bit of the remaining duck--except the liver--was deposited in the press, then Nico put the plate down and spun the press in. But before he began grinding he turned to Percy and looked at him significantly.

“Oh god yes please,” said Percy as he ran around the counter. “Oh, damn, Nico you are my favorite person _ever_.”

Nico smiled as Percy happily pressed the blood and meat and bones together to pour out into the little vessel under the press. While he did that Nico quickly ground up the duck’s fatty undercooked liver in a small food processor with a dash of seasoning. When he was done Nico set the breasts aside to rest and took the saucepan full of blood from Percy and reduced it, thickening with butter, a splash of cognac and the pureed liver.

When he was satisfied with the sauce he took out the breasts and plated them. They finished the meal in companionable silence, along with most of the bottle of wine. The duck was delicious, hot and juicy, rich with flavor, and Nico barely noticed. He watched Percy, watched the way his throat worked and his eyes fluttered close in pleasure. At one point Nico thought he’d been caught staring, but Percy didn’t call him out on it so he must have been mistaken.

“That was amazing,” said Percy as Nico collected their plates. “Here, let me help you.”

“I’m just going to set it all to soak in the sink,” confessed Nico.

“Gasp!” gasped Percy dramatically. “Sig-noree dee Angelo! Zis is not vat we mean when vee say _mees_ _un_ _plaz_!”

Nico stared at Percy long enough for him to get a little flush in his cheeks. “Was that supposed to be _mise un place_? I can almost forgive you the butchered Italian because I’ve heard Italian New Yorkers talk, but the rest of it was all over the map—“ Nico laughed as he dodged a cuff from Percy. Then Percy gave chase and Nico squealed (which he would forever deny) as Percy caught him around the waist and _hoisted him into the air._

“Put me down, asshole!” Nico shouted as Percy spun him around.

“Never!” Percy declared and then immediately set him down. Nico was unsteady enough he leaned back against Percy’s chest. “Sorry, too much?” Percy’s arms didn’t leave Nico, just shifted to better embrace him.

This was treading a line Nico hadn’t meant to tread. He pulled away from Percy roughly. “Yes.”

“Oh.” Percy looked unsure now. “Sorry, I thought—I misread things.”

Wait a minute. “What? Misread what?”

“This, tonight, I thought this was… you know what, never mind, I was just being dumb,” said Percy. He wasn’t meeting Nico’s eyes so he didn’t see Nico staring at him in wonder.

“Percy, did you think tonight was a date?”

Percy shrugged weakly, apologetic, embarrassed. “Kind of?”

“Oh.” Nico coughed. “I, uh, well, it wasn’t, I just wanted to cheer you up. But—ahem—does that mean you wouldn’t mind if it were a date?”

Nico tried not to sound too hopeful, he didn’t do a very good job. It didn’t matter though, nothing mattered as much as Percy smiling at him, the way he relaxed as the red in his cheeks turned from the flush of humiliation to the warmer flush of amorous interest.

“Considering that’s what I thought this was all about, I’d say yes,” Percy told him.

The pause between Nico staring at Percy in wonder and Nico kissing Percy breathless was over almost as fast as it began. Even feeling stuffed from good food and wine it took all of Nico’s hard-won willpower to not just rut against Percy while they made out in the kitchen with their clothes on.

“So wait, when you said tonight was about cheering me up,” said Percy when they broke for air. “Did you mean over Annabeth?”

“Yeah?” Nico said so tentatively it was nearly a question.

“Man, all you guys,” said Percy with a roll of his eyes. “It’s like the civil war up in here. It’s been months, we’re done and we’re friends and this was really nice of you to do, but you didn’t have to.”

“I know I don’t have to,” said Nico. “I wanted to. I’ve always… I really like you, Percy.”

“That’s good, because I’m pretty fond of you, too,” said Percy. “I kept waiting for you to make a move, until I wasn’t sure moves were even on the menu.”

“They weren’t,” said Nico dryly. “As I was unaware that I could even put “moves” on the menu.”

“Well, to be honest, if they had been on the menu then I’d have probably ordered those first,” said Percy. “I’m not sure even sex would be worth missing out on that awesome pasta, though.”

“If I’d known I could put _sex_ on the menu you wouldn’t have been fed at all,” Nico told him. Percy laughed.

“Let’s go for a walk,” Percy said suddenly up and moving.

“Where?” asked Nico a bit bewildered. “Why?”

“Just around the block,” said Percy, throwing on his jacket. “So our meal settles and I wake up a bit.”

“I could make you a macchiato,” said Nico breathlessly. “Honestly, I’m good to go right now.”

Percy groaned. “Dude.”

“Seriously,” said Nico, suddenly salivating enough that he had to swallow. He hadn’t expected the night to go this way but now that it was… Well, he’d fantasized about this for years now, ever since he and Percy first met at the cooking conference with their fathers when they were kids. The noise of it echoed in the quiet apartment. “What do you want, coffee first, or a blowjob?”

Percy gave him a flat look and with great deliberation began to unbutton his coat as he walked back to the couch. Nico sat upright, his dick already uncomfortably hard trapped in his pants.

Percy flopped down onto the couch next to Nico, letting an arm fall around his shoulders and bringing Nico in for a kiss. Nico moaned into the kiss and moved to straddle Percy. They made out, Percy alternating between groping Nico’s ass and sliding his hands up the back of Nico’s shirt. But Nico had made an offer and he wanted to make good, to show Percy how good he could be.

Nico sank back down to the floor onto his knees, staring at Percy the entire time. Percy’s belt clanking and his zipper pulling open were loud like thunder in the hush of the apartment. While Percy pulled his dick out Nico fished out his phone from his pocket and turned on some soft music on his apartment’s sound system. He put his phone down and then put his hands on Percy’s thighs.

Percy’s dick was just as pretty as the rest of him. Thick, uncut, and just slightly curving upward above a patch of neatly trimmed dark hair. Nico wanted that dick in his mouth yesterday. He took it in his hand and squeezed. Percy let out a little groan of pleasure, or the knowledge of pleasure to come.

Nico stroked Percy’s dick, getting a feel for it. He slid his free hand under Percy’s balls and Percy spread his legs. As Nico craned his head forward to suck on the tip of Percy’s cock he felt Percy tremble and then sigh beneath him.

He sucked Percy’s dick like it was a once in a lifetime audition for a super-star movie role. He stroked and fondled and licked and tongued and even as his jaw got sore and his tongue got tired and his knees started to ache he drew more noises out of Percy. Delicious little noises that Nico relished and chased after with gusto.

“I’m close,” said Percy, after a few minutes, in between heavy breaths. “Want me to tell you when—“

Nico pushed himself forward onto Percy’s dick until his nose was nestled in Percy’s pubic hair and his dick pushed back into Nico’s throat. He couldn’t quite keep down a choking noise, but he made it without gagging.

“Oh fucking Christ,” Percy swore and Nico slowly slurped back up off Percy’s cock. He put his hand back on the saliva soaked skin and stroked as he leaned back to breathe. Percy stared at him, breathless, his hips twitching as he came down from Nico pulling him so close to the edge.

Nico didn’t know who smiled first, but within seconds they were laughing. Percy leaned forward and pulled Nico in for a kiss. Kissing was fun, but Nico was on a mission. He pushed Percy back and resettled himself on his knees.

“I want to taste you,” said Nico and Percy moaned .

“Fuck, Nico, how can you say things like that?” Nico grinned and lowered his mouth back to Percy’s dick.

It didn’t take long before Percy was squirming and panting, his hips twitching with little inadvertent thrusts. When Nico began tonguing Percy’s balls he started letting out these little grunt-groans that made Nico’s dick throb. He knew if he touched himself he’d come, so it was just as well he kept both of his hands occupied.

“Close,” gasped Percy.

Nico put his hands on Percy’s thighs and raked his fingers down them as he sucked his way up to the tip of Percy’s cock. Percy swore inventively, something about Nico and God and variations on the word “fuck,” and quivered. Nico smoothed his hands back up the marks his nails left and sucked Percy’s dick straight back down his throat.

Percy came with all the force of a battleship firing its main cannon, shaking and cursing as his toes curled and his spine curved back. Nico swallowed _hard_ until the deluge stopped and slurped his way off Percy’s cock.

Percy was staring down at him in something resembling awe. Nico wanted to laugh, his jaw ached and his mouth had that film of salty-slimy slightly bleach aftertaste and he’d never felt more giddy.

“Jesus Christ.” Percy gasped for breath. “Dude. That was. The best blowjob. I’ve ever had. In my life.”

“Oh?” asked Nico, his voice raspy.

“I’m totally serious,” said Percy, leaning his head back. “Oh my god.”

“Be right back,” Nico croaked, and Percy just gave him a weary thumbs up. He went to the kitchen and turned on the hot water to dampen a towel in. After he rinsed his mouth he went back out to sitting area. Percy was still on the couch with his pants open, his wet glistening dick flopping out of his jeans. His eyes were closed and his breathing had slowed. When Nico kneeled in front of him again his eyes slid open into little green slits.

Nico gently cleaned him off while Percy watched him.

“Thank you,” said Percy. “I mean—come here.”

Nico made a small noise of surprise as Percy pulled him up for another kiss. Percy’s mouth tasted like wine and each kiss chased the taste of cum a little further from Nico’s mouth.

And his hand went straight to Nico’s still straining erection. They pulled back from the kiss, foreheads resting against each other, breathing each other’s air.

“You’re so hard,” said Percy, as if in wonder. Nico whimpered when Percy squeezed. “I’ve never done this before. Show me?”

So Nico showed him.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed


End file.
